


Scars

by a_calipygian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark Mark (Harry Potter), F/M, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, Nightmares, Romance, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 08:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15553695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_calipygian/pseuds/a_calipygian
Summary: Hermione and Draco lie in bed years after the Battle of Hogwarts and talk about their scars. Short one-shot.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this up after listening to 5AM by Amber Run and seeing the wonderfully written quote below! Hope you enjoy!

'' _Our scars remind us of our past,_  
 _but they do not define our future_.''

* * *

 

Draco couldn't sleep.

Actually, it wasn't that he couldn't sleep, it was more like he didn't  _want_  to sleep. His nightmares had always been a consistent problem throughout the entirety of his life, and frankly, he couldn't remember what a peaceful night's sleep felt like. They'd been getting much worse recently, however, to the point where Draco daren't even close his eyes anymore. He would rather have no sleep than go through whatever hell is mind would conjure up in the night.

Hermione had suggested a dream catcher once or twice, and each time he had strongly reminded her that he wasn't a child, despite the fact he had tried them several times in the past, but to no avail. As he lay in bed now, however, staring out at the lamp in the corner of the room that he had insisted they leave on through the night, he certainly felt like a child.

The soft pastel colours of Hermione's bedroom walls had become a comfort to him, as had her bed and her constant presence beside him. When he did sleep, which was rare, it was always in this room, where he felt most at ease. Somehow just knowing that she was near to him allowed him to relax. Though he couldn't help but constantly feel guilty. How many times had he eluded her from sleep, when he'd woken up screaming or crying, unable to get his own feelings in check? He'd lost count by now. She never complained but he could clearly see the countless nights of no sleep were beginning to have an effect on her; she'd been late to work a few times this week already.

He'd started to spend less time here because of it, whereas there had been times in the past where he had stayed for whole months. It was safer for him to stay with her. He couldn't risk taking her back to Malfoy Manor, where his parents still visited occasionally and without warning. Though they were trying to regain their public image and reform their reputation, it was no secret that they still hated Muggles and Muggle-Borns with a passion, and Draco was pretty sure they would have a heart attack upon seeing their Pure-Blooded son with a 'Mudblood' if they didn't kill him first.

It wasn't that Draco was ashamed, not in the least, but the thought of something happening to Hermione was more than he could bear. Daily life was already proving to be a struggle right now, he couldn't even imagine what it would be like without her by his side. His mother and father were still in contact with plenty of ex-Death Eaters, too, and would not hesitate to enlist the help of them to get Hermione out of the picture. So, she would stay a secret, for now at least.

Draco, on the other hand, wasn't exactly a stranger to the Granger family. He'd met with Hermione's parent's plenty of times, had dinner with them and even participated in a quaint little game that the Muggles called 'bowling' with them. They had taken a liking to Draco, as he had with them, and he was beginning to feel more and more like part of their family every day. However, even they were starting to become suspicious as to why they hadn't heard anything of Draco's family yet, and he was running out of ways to change the conversation every time it came up. Hermione had assured him plenty of times that they would understand, but Draco couldn't shake the feeling that it would ruin things, and he really didn't want that to happen when everything had been going so well.

Perhaps he was just being paranoid. But, even still, it was better to be safe.

Hermione shifted beside him in the bed, rolling onto her side, the tip of her nose and lips brushing against his shoulder. Her curly brown hair was all over her face, untameable when she was sleeping, and her breath was warm and comforting against his skin. She was a beautiful sight to behold. Draco was certain he could spend hours just looking at her and never get bored. His eyes drifted down to the exposed areas of her neck and chest that weren't covered by the sheets and spotted the fresh new marks along there from their heated session earlier. He smiled, smug, she was going to have a hard time hiding those at work in the morning. She didn't seem to mind though. He couldn't help his possessive nature, she was a beautiful creature and he enjoyed letting the world know that she belonged to him, and she wanted them to know it too.

He managed to pull his gaze away from her finally and, deciding he wasn't getting to sleep anytime soon, pulled himself up into a sitting position, rearranging the pillows behind his back. He felt an immediate chill across his body as he was reminded that he was only wearing boxers, and reached down to grab the vest top from the floor that he'd previously discarded when he and Hermione fell into bed, pulling it on and settling back once again. His eyes darted around the room in search of something to do, something to keep his mind occupied, but he found nothing. There were books, plenty of them, but he'd spent plenty of nights awake in this room and was certain he'd read through every single one that Hermione's bedroom had to offer.

When he finally decided he wasn't going to find anything, his brought his gaze back to his hands, wringing them in his lap and cracking the aching knuckles in his fingers. His eyes wandered up to his wrist and forearm, looking over the long red scar that had formed there. He winced as he looked at it. Sometimes he forgot it was there, it was only in these still and quiet moments where he remembered it, and all the memories that came with it. It hadn't always been a scar, no, the scar had formed a short time just after the Battle of Hogwarts. Before that, it was where his dark mark resided, black and bold on the skin of his forearm.

Sometimes he swore he could still make out the shape of it there, but obviously, it was no longer there, and all that remained in its place was this large and ugly scar. Draco's father had told him that when Voldemort was first defeated, his dark mark had faded away into practical non-existence, but when he had returned the mark had reappeared and burnt his arm as if it had never been gone. Draco had thought that would be what happened to it when they first got news of Voldemort's defeat, that it would disappear and leave no trace on his skin to remind him it was ever there. Instead, however, all of the ex-Death Eaters whom Draco had come across had been left with the same long red scar on their forearms. Perhaps it was a sign that he was truly gone, that there was no way for him to return, and therefore no way for their dark marks to reappear.

Though this was undoubtedly a good omen, Draco wished he didn't have the scar. It didn't exactly bring back many happy memories. Every time he looked at it, all he could see were the dead bodies lying in the Hogwarts grounds, fellow students he'd been friends with staring lifelessly back at him from the floor, and Dumbledore's  _horrifying_  expression before he was cast off the Astrology Tower. Draco shivered again, but not because of the cold this time. If he wasn't going to be sleeping tonight already, he definitely wasn't now. Just the memory of that night was enough to make him feel bile in his throat, and he had to take a deep breath to force it down. He covered the mark up with his spare hand, closing his eyes, trying to distract himself, trying to think of anything else before he panicked and-

'Draco?' Hermione's sleepy voice sounded from beside him, causing him to open his eyes again to look down at her. Confused, brown eyes met his own as he saw her staring up at him, watching his actions curiously. 'What are you doing?' She asked, pressing fingers into her eyes to rub the tiredness away.

'Oh, I... was just about to drift off.' He said, offering a small smile down to her. 'Go back to sleep, it isn't morning yet.'

'Did you have a nightmare again?' She asked worriedly, ignoring him, propping herself up on her elbows.

'No, not tonight.'

'Because you haven't slept?'

' _Hermione_ ,' Draco frowned, giving her a look, 'I promise you I'm alright, just go back to sleep.' He tried again, but by the expression on her face, he could tell their conversation was far from over. Her eyes moved down to look at his hand that was pressed over the scar on his forearm, covering it up, and she immediately grimaced.

'Have you been looking at your mark again?' She asked, moving her hand over and placing it on top of his, running her thumb across his skin gently. He said nothing, just watched her hand move to his, staying quiet. She sighed softly, looking at his expression. 'Draco, I promise it's going to get easier. One day you won't even notice it's there.'

'Perhaps not, but other's will.' He said, giving in finally. Hermione looked surprised that he'd even responded. 'It's a permanent reminder that I worked for...  _him_. Everyone in the wizarding world knows what it means, they know that all of the ex-Death Eaters have these exacts scars on their arms. I can't hide it from anyone. It will define me for the rest of my life.' He muttered, his tone angrily, pressing fingers into his temples as if trying to quell a terrible headache. Hermione had seen him do the exact same motion when he'd been cramming in revision for his OWLs.

'Draco, look at me.' She suddenly ordered sternly, and his head shot up again at the command.

( _He knew better than to ignore her_.)

He watched as she pulled her other arm from out of the covers and lay it beside his own. On the skin there, he immediately saw the faded letters that Bellatrix Lestrange had carved into her forearm all those years ago, the angry curved lines of the word 'Mudblood' engraved into her skin. Though it had healed over the years, it never disappeared completely, much like Draco's own Dark Mark scar, and was a constant reminder of the torture she had gone through that day.

'Does this define me?' She asked, bluntly, watching him with a hard gaze.

'What?' He frowned, looking shocked at the question. 'No,  _no_! Of course, it doesn't.'

'Exactly. So why should yours define who you are?' She tilted her head at him, keeping her arm beside his, their scars staring up at them. 'You had no choice but to become a Death Eater, you were young and trying to save your family. Voldemort could have killed you had you not have agreed.'

'But Dumbledore-'

'Already  _knew_  what was coming, and planned his death accordingly with Snape.' She interrupted, feeling instantly guilty for bringing it up, but it was necessary. 'You did nothing wrong Draco, that scar should be a constant reminder of how brave you were to go through all of that, and how lucky you are to have survived it all.' She smiled, lifting his arm carefully and pressing a small kiss against the red mark, her lips soft against his skin. He smiled fondly at her, and repeated the gesture on her own arm, lingering there for a moment.

'If anyone was brave, it was you.' He said, 'I still regret not saving you from that dreadful woman.'

'Draco, you would have been outnumbered, it would have been a death wish.' She reminded him, smiling sadly as she brought a hand up to mess with his hair. 'Besides, it would have meant things would have worked out differently, and... I liked the way things happened between us.'

'Me too.' He agreed, a genuine smile coming to his face that made her light up with happiness. He always looked so handsome when he smiled properly. She considered him momentarily before she suddenly lifted herself and slid onto his lap, sitting there weightlessly, leaning forward to kiss his neck.

'How about I help tire you out a little?' She offered, suggestively, lips pressing against his pulse. He blinked in surprise, glancing at the clock on the wall.

'Hermione, it's... nearly 5 am. You have work in a few hours.' He pointed out, and at the same time mentally slapped himself for trying to stop. She pulled away, only slightly, to look directly into his eyes, a smirk prominent on her face.

'Are you turning me down, Malfoy?'

'Oh, Granger,' he purred, watching her shiver above him, 'I would never  _dream_  of it.'

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Muchas love~


End file.
